


warmth

by devilmandykebaby



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, Hair Brushing, M/M, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 02:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20959205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilmandykebaby/pseuds/devilmandykebaby
Summary: Dimitri needs a change before he and Dedue leave for the Officer's Academy.





	warmth

**Author's Note:**

> as far as i remember the game never said when dimitri cut his hair so im choosing to believe he had that little catholic gay boy bob until he was 17

Dimitri’s quarters were a total mess. In only a week’s time, he and Dedue would be leaving for the Officer’s Academy at Garreg Mach, where Dimitri’s own father had attended. The prince insisted he pack his own belongings in preparation. Dedue knew how stubborn Dimitri was better than anyone, so left him to his machinations, but seeing the disaster before him made him rethink his choice.

“Your Highness,” Dedue started, gently, “May I assist you in any way?”

Dimitri sighed. “I think it’s best if I step away from this for a moment. In all honesty, I feel a nervous wreck. About our attending the academy.”

“There is nothing to worry for, your Highness. Your skills in both combat and studies are unrivaled. The academy is surely ecstatic to have the future king of Faerghus in attendance this year.”

Dimitri shook his head. “No, at the academy, I aim to be merely another student, not treated as a prince. It’s my first chance to really do so.” 

Dedue couldn’t argue with that. Ever since the Tragedy four years prior, the castle attendants had been especially careful with Dimitri, rarely giving him time alone outside of his carefully planned and monitored schedule. Dimitri enjoyed the training and studies, but Dedue could read him easily, and both his hatred of being coddled and his desire to forge his own way were obvious. 

“I understand,” Dedue said. “However, settling into academy life will only prove more difficult if anything of importance is left behind in Fhirdiad. It is not a short journey.” 

Dimitri continued staring at his feet, his hair hanging downwards, hiding his face. He often wore it in a ponytail during training or other exercises, and Dedue secretly relished in their matching hairstyles. Dedue is the one who carefully combed and styled it each morning, depending on the days schedule. Now, the prince had it down, messy with sweat and a clear lack of sleep. 

“Dedue,” Dimitri said, raking his hands through his hair, a little too roughly. “I think I need a change.”

“Your Highness?”

“What I mean to say,” Dimitri stood up, and walked closer to Dedue, who was standing diligently near the doorway. “I have not changed much of my appearance. I know it matters not, but,” his voice faltered slightly. “I have looked this way since the tragedy. Going to the academy is my first foray into freedom, and revenge.”

Dimitri learned his head against Dedues chest, and grabbed his shirt, body shaking visibly. Dedues breathing stopped, not sure what to do, what was appropriate for his station. That is how it always was with his dear prince, a fight between what was acceptable, and what his heart wanted—

Dimitri abruptly stepped away. “My apologizes, Dedue, I was overcome.”

“It is nothing, your Highness. I only wish to help you in any way I am able.”

“Of course,” Dimitri said, obviously not in the mood to combat Dedues self-perception at the moment. “This may seem a ridiculous request, but, would you mind cutting my hair?”

A haircut? Of all things, Dedue didn’t expect that. The late King, Lambert, always kept his hair on the long side, and Dedue suspected Dimitri wore his the same in fondness. 

“I would be honored, your Highness.”

—

Dedue had procured a stool and brought it to the prince’s personal bathroom, placing it in front of the mirror with a towel beneath it. Dimitri didn’t want any second opinions on the matter, so he insisted they do it privately and as quickly as possible. 

“I’m ready, Dedue,” Dimitri said, sitting down, his hands on his knees in a nervous fashion. 

“Understood. I have only ever cut my sister’s hair and my own, but I shall do my utmost,” Dedue said. He had a pair of scissors at the ready.

“I know you’ll do well. Your hair always looks great, I’m envious,” Dimitri said.

Dedue hoped Dimitri was too wracked with nerves to notice his blush, and mumbled a “thank you” before taking a comb to the prince’s hair. He brushed it back gently, handling Dimitri with care, as he always did. Once his hair was all pulled back at an even length, Dedue took his scissors and made the preliminary cut. Both watched as Dimitri’s golden locks fluttered onto the floor. 

“That felt incredible” Dimitri said with a smile. “It feels as though my worries are falling away.”

“I am glad, your Highness. Shall I continue?”

Dimitri nodded. “Yes, I want it rather short. I don’t want to be mistaken for a princess at the academy. How embarrassing that would be for the Kingdom.”

“Your Highness, you have never done a thing to bring shame to the kingdom.”

“Oh, Dedue, Dimitri said, smiling. “It’s not so complicated as that. It’s just...I am a man now, am I not? It is time to appear as such.”

Dedue could have argued that he had always seen his masculinity, maybe noticed too much, but, as usual, he silenced such thoughts and instead focused his energy towards serving His Highness. 

Dimitri’s hair looked quite awkward at the moment. The majority of the length had been cut, leaving some bangs in the front and on the sides. Dedue trimmed them in an attempt to make them more even. Gentle handiwork such as this is where Dedue truly excelled. If not for the circumstances, he imagined he would still be in his village in Duscur, teaching his sister how to cook, doing crafts with her and tending to their family’s garden. 

He took to the comb again, using it to ascertain everything was looking even in the back. He combed down to the nape of Dimitris neck, and made a few more snips. If things were different, if he were not the future king, Dedue may have been tempted to touch Dimitri’s neck, with first his hands, then perhaps his lips—

Dimitri appeared to be in a trance. 

“Your Highness?” 

Dimitris eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Dedue. I felt so relaxed, I became a little dazed. You truly know what you’re doing.”

“I...” Dedue bowed. “I am happy to hear that. If it is to your liking, I believe it to be finished.”

Dimitri stared at himself in the mirror. With this new haircut, his face was much more visible. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but perhaps it would grow on him in time. The main thing is that he absolutely looked more adult, almost unrecognizable from that boy who survived the Tragedy. 

“Thank you, Dedue,” the prince stood up and did a turn about, looking at different angles. “I feel much better now.”

Dimitri shook his head, attempting to get any stray hairs out. He ran a final hand through his hair in an attempt to make it feel more natural, his eyes squinting in focus. Dedue couldn’t help thinking he looked adorable, like a cat cleaning itself. 

“I suppose I must concede myself to your assistance once more in packing my things. I hope at the academy I can learn to be more independent from you, Dedue. It’s a little embarrassing.”

“Think nothing of it,” Dedue smiled at his prince. 

“Ah,” Dimitri’s eyes widened in that way they often did. “Have you finished packing your own belongings? I cannot impose-“

“It is finished,” Dedue said. He had very little to call his own, so he was planning to do it the night before, but the prince didn’t need to know the details. He only hoped to alleviate Dimitri’s anxiety in any way possible.

“I’m happy to hear that. As expected, Dedue,” Dimitri began walking towards his bedroom once more. Dedue was a little in awe of how different Dimitri looked with such a simple change. All of his features were more in focus—his baby blue eyes were no longer blocked by fringe, his jawline free of coverage as well. He looked striking, and Dedue was becoming preliminarily worried about the attention he would no doubt receive at the academy. Although whoever Dimitri may choose to court had nothing to do with his retainer—Dedue couldn’t lie to himself about his own feelings. As long as his Highness never knew, nobody would be hurt. 

Dimitri scratched the back of his nape before leaning over the pick up some discarded clothing off the floor. “It will take some getting used to. My neck feels cold,” Dimitri chuckled. “Wouldn’t have thought of that. I hope I wasn’t too rash.”

Dedue joined him in the organization, folding some of the clothing. The two worked in silence for some time, but Dedue noticed Dimitri continued to touch his neck.  
“Excuse me, your Highness, I will be right back.”

“Ah, alright—“ Dedue was already gone. Dimitri felt a little anxious at his sudden departure, but continued his task. He had no idea what to pack. He supposed it wouldn’t be as cold at Garreg Mach as it was in Faerghus, but just how mild would it be in comparison? He had much to learn about the continent beyond the territory that was his to lead.  
Before Dimitri was left to his own devices for too long (which nearly always ended up in total disaster), Dedue returned. 

“I noticed you seemed cold,” Dedue said. “so I brought this, if you would like to use it.”

In his outstretched arms was a blue scarf, with a blue and white pattern stitched along the middle. 

“Ah, Dedue, I must refuse, that is from Duscur, is it not?” Dimitri pushed Dedue’s hands away. “It’s too precious...”

“I brought it of my own volition. You did something very brave today, your Highness,” Dedue wrapped the scarf around Dimitri, who froze up upon the contact. 

“Cutting my hair is hardly...”

“It is significant, your Highness. You are your own man now, taking your first step towards leading your country.”

Dimitri touched the scarf, wrapped expertly around him. He could feel how well-loved it was.

“I cannot argue with you, Dedue. You flatter me,” he shook his head. “I suppose at the academy, it might be a little warmer than here, and I’ll return this to you before we set off, I promise.”

Dedue smiled at his prince, and nodded.

—

On the carriage ride to Garreg Mach, Dedue insisted Dimitri wear the scarf at least until they were out of Faerghus territories. Seeing Dimitri asleep, head against Dedue’s shoulder, in a scarf from his homeland, Dedue was glad his Highness relented to this request.


End file.
